


With You, the Only Way I Can Be

by greendoodle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, if anyone badmouths yachi here i swear ima cut you, mature-ish for ch2? heavily implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendoodle/pseuds/greendoodle
Summary: “It won’t be unrequired?”“Unrequited.”“That! It won’t be that?”Something firm and hard lodges itself in Akaashi’s throat, but the second-year opts to ignore it. After all, he promised he wouldn't fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I admit, I was inspired for the title from [Recuerdame](https://youtu.be/3iDxU9eNQ_0) in Disney's "Coco" which is a GREAT movie, you should all go watch it. Though, it has little to no influence on this story other than for the title. XD
> 
> I literally wrote this entire 8k fic in one sitting so woops. Yaknow I had to write an angsty variation of the 'pining Akaashi' fic ahaha, but no worries about a long wait, I'll be updating this fic tomorrow for Bokuaka day 5/4! ;D  
> (Unfortunately for ["Endless Potential"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223009/chapters/32790807), it won't be updated until at the very least midway through May! I applied for a zine with the fic so I gotta wait to hear their thoughts before making any changes haha! Sorry about the delay (but hey at least you know it's done)!)
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my beta who I love and adore with all my heart and soul <3

People are fickle.

Akaashi knew this firsthand.

When his mother started coughing up flowers during his middle school years, Akaashi had watched each petal fall to the floor, each bloodier than the last.

“Honey,” he’d heard her cry out as his dad stood watching the mess from the living room. “No, honey, you promised forever.”

“I’m sorry.”

His dad stepped out for the night and Akaashi could still hear his mother’s sobs from his room as he waited for the entire ordeal to blow over—for love was only an emotion that came and went like any other.

It was as simple as that.

Akaashi wasn’t an emotionless person. Sure, he had a more difficult time expressing his feelings than most people, but he wasn’t a robot. He felt things as they came and as they went, each feeling surfacing like the rise of a tide, and then receding into the distance, never the same when it returned.

He figured love was the same way. People love others platonically, and with familial adoration, and romantic love, as different as it seemed, was surely similar. It was fleeting and temporary as any other emotion was.

He only gave up on love when his father filed for divorce.

Akaashi didn’t blame his dad in the slightest for the decision. In fact, it was probably for the best. The two parents separated and his mother went into surgery, coming out stronger than ever before, as if she had never loved to begin with. Akaashi wondered if that was what she wanted.

He didn’t have the courage to ask.

He wonders if she would have even been able to answer that question.

Regardless, life went on and Akaashi rejected a fair amount of people throughout the rest of his middle school years. Thankfully, none of the crushes blossomed into full-blown love so that was a weight off his conscience.

Still, Akaashi wondered what he would do if that had happened. Would he take pity on the person and learn to love them gradually come what may? Or, would he, like his father, leave for the benefit of the both of them—healing temporary hurts with permanent answers? Akaashi wasn’t sure.

The hanahaki disease.

In years past, such a crazy sounding disease wouldn’t have existed, but the moment it took root in mankind, the disease spread and made itself known to all, far and wide. It wasn’t something that should have been a problem. When a victim fell to unrequited love, flowers took hold inside their bodies, growing gradually until they choked and suffocated them from the inside out. If left untreated, the victim would eventually succumb to the disease and die, unable to breathe as their inner organs were ravaged by an unbearable ‘love.’

It was kind of ironic, to be completely honest. This passion that drove people, moves and inspires was killing the same people who wanted so desperately to give.

Through his mother’s life, Akaashi learned there were only two ways to get rid of this disease. In his mom’s case, she had taken the ‘easy’ way out. She had gone into operation where a surgeon removed the blossoming flowers but, with the added cost of removing her feelings for Akaashi’s father. It was a costly procedure, but it got the job done. His mother was like a new person after the operation and she had never seemed happier.

The second option was for the victim to make the person they are pining after reciprocate their love. In doing this, the flowers inside would wilt and die gradually, as if they had never been there to begin with. Doctors said this happened because the feelings were reciprocated perfectly, allowing the body to reach equilibrium and thrive normally. This option was difficult, but not impossible, and saved patients from paying the medical fee to take care of their lovesickness.

Though, Akaashi knew which method was truly the more expensive of the two.

Love was a tricky thing. And Akaashi didn’t know if he wanted anything to do with it at all. If the tears his mother had shed taught him anything, it was never bound to last.

Then, as if the universe was laughing at him for thinking such thoughts, came Bokuto Koutarou.

It was his first year of high school and Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure why a volleyball player in the national top ten even bothered with an inexperienced setter like him. It wasn’t just him however—Bokuto made sure to include himself in everyone’s business, regardless of their team position or grade. He was everywhere, sticking his foot into other people’s problems and throwing a wrench into their plans. By all definitions of the word ‘annoying,’ he surprisingly wasn’t, and he only served to earn the team’s adoration and respect as the months went by.

Of course, he swept Akaashi off his feet in more ways than one.

The two got closer and although Akaashi felt a certain panic in this newfound intimacy, he promised himself that he would never let it get as far as his parents.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Isn’t she super cute, Akaashi?” Bokuto gushed, pointing at a magazine article he had brought into Akaashi’s living room. His finger landed directly on the blonde girl with her hair tied up, smiling as she held a beach ball under her arm.

Akaashi blinked, looking at the picture with little interest before turning back to his notepad. “I guess.”

“Aghaaashi…”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“You barely looked at her…”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why not?” Bokuto furrowed his brows before he lit up like a Christmas tree. “Akaashi, are you gay?”

Akaashi spluttered—he wasn’t even sure how that much spit got into his throat, but regardless, he bucked over and coughed a few times before looking over at Bokuto through watery eyes. “What… what makes you think…”

Bokuto shrugged in response. “Just asking. Don’t you think it’d be nice to get married—have some kids…”

Akaashi didn’t know what to say to that so he opted for silence.

“Hey Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“How would you feel if I told you I was bisexual?”

Akaashi blinked, not sure he was comprehending the question. “It’s fine?” He turned to pick at his fingers. “It’s the same, loving a girl or a guy.”

“Man, Akaashi, you’re the best,” Bokuto grinned, and the smile reached his ears. “I would still want kids if I ended up with a dude though. It’d be nice to adopt when I get married. Like, I definitely lean more towards girls cause they’re so cute, but guys are fine too yaknow!” He twisted on the couch to rest his head on his hands, staring directly at Akaashi. “Do you want to get married, Akaashi?”

“Wha—” Akaashi stammered, brows furrowing. “What kind of a question is that?”

Bokuto shrugged as if he had just asked about the weather. He directed his attention to the ceiling, pedaling his legs enthusiastically. “It’s the future, Akaashi! Gotta think ahead ‘cause you never know who you’ll meet!”

Akaashi stared at his upperclassman’s side profile for a moment before tearing his gaze away. _Calm down, Akaashi. He’s not asking for your hand in marriage or anything that serious._

“Yeah,” he decided, putting his pen to the side. “That’d be nice.”

The ‘with you’ went unmentioned.

Akaashi actually wasn’t sure why he’d responded that way. He’d given up on love, hadn’t he? It was just small talk on a lazy weekend afternoon to fill up time and space. He was obligated to keep the conversation going for his senior.

He wondered when he had become so sacrificial.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto was definitely being genuine when he said he preferred girls to guys. His upperclassman talked animatedly about his first crush a few weeks later, pestering everyone about how he had fallen for the brunette in his homeroom class.

“Are her boobs big?” Konoha teased, a hand resting on his chin.

“Wh-what?!” Bokuto squawked, shooting an accusatory glare at his teammate. “I don’t care about that stuff! She just has a really nice smile, and she’s really patient with me and I like it when she talks, that’s all…”

The other boys snickered, jabbing Bokuto in the back and sides. Akaashi rolled his eyes, grabbing a ball from the basket and getting ready for the whistle from their coach.

_If anything, Bokuto probably had bigger boobs than that girl._

Akaashi stopped, ears flushing bright red. Why had he thought that? That was an unnecessary, unfiltered comment that had slipped through the cracks of his mind. Did he really think Bokuto-san’s chest was that voluptuous? Why had he made the comparison in the first place?

Thankfully, he was saved from further incriminating thoughts when the whistle blew and all the players were called to line up on the side. Akaashi followed behind slowly, forcing his thoughts to retain whatever sanity was left. He watched Bokuto jog up stiffly to the line, his cheeks flushed pink as he laughed loudly with the others.

“I guess they’re kinda big, but she just makes me happy! Happier than anyone else,” he heard Bokuto chirp from his left.

Akaashi couldn’t explain the twinge in his heart.

If he could, he didn’t want to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto asked her out a week later and Akaashi found his upperclassman on the steps leading up to the gym, face buried in his shoulders, hair buried in the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto-san.”

The team ace jumped, looking up slowly to meet Akaashi’s eyes. “Akaashi.”

Akaashi felt as if he had been slapped across the face. Here was the boisterous Bokuto Koutarou, ace of Fukurodani, one of the top ten players in the country, an excitable and supportive team player—brows lowered, face smeared in snot and tears, and a pout that didn’t quite fit right on his face.

Akaashi looked away. “Did you love her?”

Bokuto sniffed—quite loudly, to be frank—and wiped some of the liquid on his face onto his sleeve. “Probably.”

“But, you’re not coughing up flowers.”

Bokuto paused as if thinking, and Akaashi nearly felt tempted enough to sneak a peek at his face.

“Yeah, okay,” Bokuto admitted slowly, eyes glued to the floor. “But, I still had a crush on her.”

“Then,” Akaashi tried to reason. “You shouldn’t cry. You didn’t love her anyway.”

“It still hurts, ‘Kaashi.”

Akaashi didn’t know what to say to that. Did Bokuto give himself to others so easily enough to cry? But, then why wasn’t he inflicted with hanahaki? It didn’t make sense at all. He merely stood there as Bokuto continued to weep into his sleeve on the step, the silence weighing heavily between the two of them.

“It’s… nationals are coming up soon so it’s probably best that we focus on those. I’ll throw you some tosses, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto lifted his head once more from his knees. “…okay.”

“It’ll make you feel better, Bokuto-san.”

“…okay.”

_It’ll probably make me feel better too._

Akaashi didn’t know why he needed to be cheered up, to be completely honest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto poured every piece of himself into practicing and Akaashi followed suit, watching as his upperclassman went from top ten in the nation to top five by the end of nationals.

The boy was on fire, and that was speaking quite objectively. Fukurodani obliterated opposing teams with Bokuto’s crosses and occasional straights, and the others followed suit, racking up a steady rhythm of points to win back-to-back matches.

When Bokuto hit a clean straight for the first time in a match, Akaashi ran onto the court with the rest of his team, faces alight with excitement and utter inexplicable joy.

_He loves this Bokuto. He loves him._

_This Bokuto that’s happy, that’s excited, that’s at his best, and awing everyone around him._

The thought crossed Akaashi’s head for a split second before fizzling out as the team came together in a smothering group hug, each face alight with relief and pride for their ace. Bokuto laughed as everyone rammed into him, arms tangled with Akaashi, with the others, their breaths heavy, drunk with victory in their minds. 

Their ace. That’s right. _Theirs._

Not his.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you remember that girl I had a crush on, Akaashi?”

“Which one, Bokuto-san?”

“The one in my homeroom class!”

“Ah, yes, her,” Akaashi answered as if the thought of her hadn’t crossed his mind several times a day. He had a feeling he knew why he was so fixated on her despite how very gay he was, but he couldn’t help but think about her and her rejection from several months back. “What about her?”

“She said that she found it hard to keep up with my moods and that’s why she didn’t want to date me. But, you know what? I’m pretty awesome despite my moods, don’t you think? I _am_ in the top five of the country after all!”

Akaashi thought that was obvious. He huffed. “Still not in top three though.”

“Aghaashi!!”

Akaashi smirked but fought to keep his mouth from curving up too far. In the past year, Akaashi had realized that he definitely had a crush on his upperclassman, but he promised to keep it from going past the infatuation stage. It was a bit pathetic he thought, pining over someone who clearly had preferences lying in the other gender, but he couldn’t help what he wanted.

He didn’t _need_ Bokuto Koutarou though, and _that_ was the difference between him and his mother.

He hoped—no, prayed that he could differentiate between platonic affections and romantic ones.

For his sake.

_For Bokuto’s sake as well (because he preferred girls)._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The end of the year passed uneventfully and Akaashi felt proud of his ability to keep his crush under wraps. A new school year came and with it, new teammates, new friends, new experiences to be made.

With the training camp on the horizon, Akaashi’s second year was wrapping up nicely as well. It was only a few days after the weekend training camp that he realized how naïve he was to think so.

“Akaashi, what do I do? I want to ask someone out, but I’m not sure how to!”

Akaashi felt something churn unpleasantly in his stomach, but he fought to ignore it. If he didn’t know any better, he would have just chalked it up to hunger pains, but Akaashi wasn’t stupid.

Quite the contrary, the second-year was considered top of his class not only by his classmates, but by his friends, family, and countless peers. He received the highest marks on all his exams, participated in school government activities, and was the perfect role model for students near and far. Akaashi had built that reputation for himself all throughout his first year and it was a no brainer that it would carry through his second year as well.

Maybe that was why he wanted to believe that the pain in his chest was only physical.

“You want to ask her out?”

“Yeah, can you help me?”

“Sure, Bokuto-san,” was out of his mouth before he could convince his brain to stop his lips from moving. Akaashi strengthened his grip on his bag and ignored whatever nasty feeling was settling into his mind. “Who is she?”

“Well, you know when Karasuno came?”

“Yes, that was only a few days ago.”

“Th-the girl manager on their team!” Bokuto laughed awkwardly, uncharacteristically shy.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. From his understanding, there were two. “Which one?”

“Okay, this is going to sound really bad, but hear me out, okay?”

He opted to stay silent, and Bokuto took it as a sign to continue.

“W-well, that girl with the short blonde hair, she’s really, really cute and totally my type you know?”

Akaashi didn’t know, but he listened anyways.

“Konoha always made fun of me for going after the blondes, but I can’t help it, they’re so cute? Anyway, we talked a bit while she was here and I think I might want to ask her out for the long golden week training when they come back up here! What do you think?”

Honestly, Akaashi didn’t know what to think.

“The first year?” he managed.

“Yeah! I know, it’s kind of an age gap, but I think we can work it out!”

“You know you’ll be graduating soon, Bokuto-san. The spring high preliminaries are coming up as well.”

“Yeah, I know, but I can propertize!”

“Prioritize.”

“Yeah, that!”

Akaashi closed his eyes, trying to think about what else he could say to help Bokuto. He wasn’t particularly opposed to his upperclassman getting a girlfriend as long as it didn’t hinder Fukurodani in their practices. Bokuto was a good guy and he was sure to treat her right even if he was expected to prioritize his volleyball before her.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“Really?? You think so? Yes! Thank you Akaashi, you’re the best!”

In the recesses of his mind, Akaashi wondered why he hoped she would say no.

“Just… don’t scare her, Bokuto-san.”

“I won’t! I promise!”

Akaashi chose to ignore the itch building in his throat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were outside of the gymnasium on the green, grassy field. Bokuto threw yet another nervous glance over his shoulder, his brows seemingly glued in a permanent frown. Akaashi resisted the urge to reach up and smoothen it out.

“What if she rejects me and I get hanahaki or something, Akaashi?!” Bokuto whined for the umpteenth time. “You know you can _die_ from that, right?”

“Yes, I know, Bokuto-san.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her like, she’s really all I want, agh…!” Bokuto ran a hand threw his gelled hair, messing it up again. “Why did I wait until the last minute to ask her, why!”

“Because if she rejects you, it won’t affect your play.”

“Akaashi, I thought you’re supposed to be on my side!”

Akaashi sighed at this, reaching over to pull Bokuto’s fingers out from his hair. “Bokuto-san, there’s no way that she’ll reject you.”

Bokuto blinked back at him, sheepish and shy, vulnerable. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Akaashi breathed, not trusting himself to say any more. He’s seen the way Yachi turned to stare at Bokuto’s play, at how his loud laughter caught her attention from across the room. He hoped that it was only because of the volume though.

“It won’t be unrequired?”

“Unrequited.”

“That! It won’t be that?”

Akaashi felt his heart drop and immediately he’s conflicted into wishing his hopes are in vain, for Bokuto’s sake. He swallowed thickly, stepping away from his team’s ace. “Just go.”

His two words are enough to relight the confidence in Bokuto as he smiled wide, saluted once, and then scampered off to find the Karasuno manager. Akaashi followed his retreating form with his eyes for a bit before heading back into the gymnasium to get some extra practice.

Something firm and hard lodges itself in Akaashi’s throat, but the second-year opts to ignore it. He has more important things to tend to, after all.

And he promised. He promised himself he wouldn’t fall in love.

No matter what.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She said yes.

And, Akaashi for whatever reason took it harder than he thought he would.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t feel real at first.

Everything was the same as always. Bokuto came to pester him before, during, and after school hours—the two spent hours together during practice and even more past it into the dead of the night. Bokuto carelessly touched him, swinging his arms over Akaashi’s shoulders and dragging his vice-captain along for whatever he fancied. Nothing had changed.

It was only a crush and now that his moment had passed, it was time to let it go. Akaashi told himself over and over, afraid of what it would mean if he acknowledged the dull pain that pulsed through his heart.

Slowly, as time passed, the tightness in Akaashi’s chest began to loosen because, obviously he was overthinking the whole thing. Everything was fine.

As it should be.

Yet, it was only when Yachi Hitoka came to visit that he realized how stupid he was being. How this forced ignorance was picking him apart from the inside out.

It played out in slow motion.

Someone outside called out that there was a girl who was visiting Fukurodani for her boyfriend. Most of the players in the gym stopped at that, pausing club activities momentarily to see who the lucky teammate was.

Yachi popped her head in between the open doors, smiling sheepishly with shoulders hunched over themselves.

“Yachi!!” Bokuto near-yelped, eyes alight and grin wide as he dropped the volleyball in his hands and rushed forward to envelop the girl in a hug. After an initial shriek of surprise, she seemed to melt in his touch, giggling uncontrollably and burying her face into his arms.

A sharp stab of pain flashed through Akaashi’s heart. He wondered if he had imagined it. His teammates had gathered around, whistling and hollering in the background.

“I didn’t know you were coming to see me! What the heck, that’s a long train ride!” Bokuto gushed, a shine in his eyes Akaashi had never seen for anyone else.

Yachi flushed a bit. “M-my mom’s here on a business trip so I asked if I could come so I could… s-see you…”

Bokuto seemed to tear up instantly at this. “Y-yachi…” He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and she squealed in embarrassment.

“B-bokuto-san, there’s—!! Everyone’s watching us!”

At that, Bokuto turned to his forgotten teammates, gave an exaggerated sniff and raised a fist in the air. “In celebration of my girlfriend coming to visit me, practice is cancelled today!”

There was a mixed response from the team, but most sighed in exasperation, yelling out comments of “you whipped excuse for a captain!” and “no, no, don’t let us intrude on your time with your _girlfriend_. You know, we’re only the team that you’ve known for _months_ after all.”

Bokuto didn’t seem to mind the comments, grinning from ear to ear as he grabbed Yachi’s hands in his. The petite girl blushed bright red and Akaashi couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the sight.

As the others got ready to pack up, Akaashi found his voice and couldn’t help himself from blurting, “Bokuto-san, we talked about prioritizing volleyball first as nationals is just around—”

“Let the man live a little,” Komi huffed, rolling his eyes and smirking. “His girlfriend came all the way from Miyagi.”

“It’d suck if it rained later and they couldn’t do romantic things,” Kaori mused, putting away towels into her bag.

“Let them be gross together,” Konoha fake-gagged, wringing his hands and stretching lazily. “It’s nice to get a Saturday off.”

The others seemed to voice their agreement to that as they hadn’t had much of a break since the training camp a few weeks ago.

Akaashi felt stumped as everyone prepared for their impromptu day-off. Slowly, almost robotically, he followed suit, watching the new couple out of the corner of his eye.

Yachi whispered something into Bokuto’s ear as he stooped down to hear what she had to say. He grinned in response, leaning in to whisper something to her as well. She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

_They look good together._

Akaashi felt like throwing up. He wondered if he had eaten too much before practice that day, or he was a bit surprised everyone was so easily ready to give up practice so that their captain could go on a date. Maybe a bit of both.

He couldn’t find anyone to blame but himself. It was _his_ emotions that made him feel this way, _his_ emotions that made him think too much, and _his_ emotions that threw his own insecurities into his face time and time again.

Everyone packed their things, changed out of the locker room, and made their way out the door. Yachi was hovering in the background the entire time, standing outside of the men’s dressing room and waiting, patiently waiting for Bokuto to come out and meet with her.

Akaashi wanted to confront her. He wanted to tell her off for taking their captain away from them during such a critical time of practice before nationals. But, seeing those rosy cheeks and the way she fiddled with her fingers so daintily, Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to.

They all headed out on their separate ways.

Akaashi watched as Bokuto wished him farewell, a simple swing motion of his hand, like any other day. The younger boy smiled back, offering a small wave before feeling his hands fall down limply to his sides. He watched as Bokuto ran off with Yachi, wrapping his arms around her as she giggled something into his ear that made Bokuto burst into varying shades of red. Their backs slowly receded into the distance, and Akaashi felt the first drops of rain fall.

_Oh, an umbrella._

His first thought as he blinked back the haze, looking up at the sky.

Except, there were no rain clouds, there was no rain. Akaashi felt a wetness stream down his cheek, down his chin, into his hands.

_What?_

He looked down, palms upturned to receive the droplets that were falling from his face. His face unreadable, his eyes downturned.

_Ah._

Akaashi felt a pang of regret and he heaved a deep sigh, watching the tears stream from his eyes and onto his fingers.

_It was love._

_It was Bokuto-san._

_It was too late._

He exhaled slowly, feeling a certain pity well up in his chest as he watched the endless pouring of tears. He wondered if he should be glad the flowers didn’t come first before his realization. But, maybe, it was better this way. If he could only help Bokuto-san be the best he could be on court as the team setter, then that…

_That was enough._

 

 

 

 

 

_It was a lie._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy BokuAka Day (part 2)!! :D Here's the second (and last) chapter of my hanahaki au! (If I'm feeling SUPER compelled I may write a third chapter, but that's honestly just depending on how I feel XD)

“There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer

 

 

 

 

 

The first time the flowers came, Akaashi wasn’t surprised.

He watched the mixture of petals and drool make its way out of his mouth and wondered why he wasn’t cautious enough. He certainly could have prevented this. He didn’t need to give so much of himself to one person as his mother had once done.

It scared him.

A panic settled over Akaashi because thinking about it logically, it _was_ pretty damn scary to have plants, roots, leaves fly out of your mouth, out of your internal organs as if they belonged there. To die from this disease was something he hadn’t even considered. And yet, there he was, slowly withering away from it.

But, for Bokuto-san--

_He would._

That was the scariest part.

The petals were yellow, soft to the touch. They reminded Akaashi of the warmth of Bokuto’s touch, the gold of his eyes.

Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he searched for the flower on the internet, finding it to match the description of marigolds.

_‘The beauty and warmth of the rising sun, creativity and the drive to succeed, promoting cheer and good relations in a relationship…_

_Encouraging someone else to reach their potential.’_

Akaashi nearly laughed, turning over the petal on his desk in his hands. His mother wasn’t kidding when she had said the flowers match up to emotions and feelings in a relationship perfectly.

After all, she had coughed up morning glories.

_‘Unrequited love, mortality of life, love that is in vain.’_

He thought his mother was foolish. Why bother loving someone who wouldn’t love you back, no matter how hard you tried? It was a fruitless endeavor, something in which Akaashi found no merit. Yet there he was in the same position--if not worse off.

After all, his father had loved his mother once. Bokuto had never loved him.

Regardless, he thought it ironic. _Like mother, like son_ , he mused.

Akaashi fought back another cough.

_How stupidly tragic._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He hid it for as long as he can. After all, it was he who wanted to prioritize nationals first and foremost. No one seemed to notice, but Akaashi couldn’t help but feel as if he was losing his grip on whatever control he thought he had over his own predicament.

Even so, he had enough self-control to keep his coughing to a minimum, letting the flowers build up in the back of his throat before excusing himself to go to the bathroom and throw them all out.

The sink is too yellow every time.

Each petal reminds him of Bokuto-san.

Against his better judgment, he stays around Bokuto. Not that he had much of a choice in that matter anyways as the team captain makes it a point to involve himself in everything.

It was endearing, it was infuriating, it was driving Akaashi mad.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

There were times he was tempted to tell Bokuto. A particularly difficult night had him hacking up marigolds by the minute, his eyes watering from the pain, his throat constricting from the exertion.

It was a Wednesday, the day that Fukurodani practices end early. Yet, despite this, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his broad shoulders or the way his face lit up when he laughed. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he would do anything to protect that smile, to be able to hold those rugged hands, to run his fingers through the mess of hair on his head.

Outside, Akaashi was sure to give everyone a straight face. He didn’t want anyone to know, and he certainly didn’t want anybody to pity him. This was his own problem, one brought about by his own weakness and insecurities. It was his own.

When Akaashi breaks, it’s when he’s alone, away from prying eyes, weeks after he’s realized his love, and he cries and cries until he can’t anymore, throat constricting, eyes bloodshot. He watches the golden petals slip out of his mouth and onto the covers of his bed, and he can’t remember coughing to expel them from his lungs.

_I love him, I love him, oh god, I love him and I’m an idiot, why didn’t I tell him? Then, after he rejected me I would have had no regrets, I wouldn’t have had… I…_

He wants to die. He figures death would be less painful than this. This love that grew from inside him and suffocated him from the inside out. His heart is hurting, his lungs are hurting, his head, his body, his entire being, his soul is aching for release.

Did he want to remove them? These feelings for him that overflowed, that burned and choked and consumed his entire life like a garden of weeds? He only had to go to get them removed like his mother had, it would be simple, easier.

Fingers shaking, he reaches for his phone, selects Bokuto’s contact and types a hurried message.

'I’m sorry, Bokuto-san  
I love you so much it hurts  
It hurts cause all I want to do is be by your side  
It hurts I’m sorry this is really stupid of me to say  
Please think of me even for a moment, please—'

_[message deleted]_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That weekend, Bokuto takes him to a family restaurant he frequented with Yachi.

“D-do you maybe want to hear about how my first kiss with Yachi went?” Bokuto asked, his eyes wide and a poorly suppressed grin on his face. “Only if you want to!”

Throughout his life, Akaashi has been called selfish, rude—someone who really didn’t bother with frivolities even if his life depended on it. He opted to stay quiet and polite, up to a certain point, but ultimately thought primarily for himself and his own self-interest.

But, here, he couldn’t. Not with Bokuto.

Akaashi smiled, unable to resist the hopefulness in his upperclassman’s eyes. He bit into his sandwich, as if thinking about whether or not to allow Bokuto to keep speaking, though he already knew the answer himself.

“Sure, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto seemed to beam at this simple request and Akaashi felt his heart do a backflip. He suppressed a cough behind his hand, opting to give his captain his full attention.

“It was kind of like those cute little puppies, you know? I actually, uhm,” Bokuto seemed to shrink into himself. “I’ve never actually had a kiss before, and it was kind of wet and weird? B-but, not in a bad way! Just, uhm, interesting? And then, after we kissed and then watched a movie, we kissed again, and it was better! And she really liked it, I think. I had to catch the last train ‘cause it was Wednesday night so, I left Miyagi, but it was really nice!”

Bokuto hummed to himself, stirring his drink as he tended to the chicken nuggets he ordered. “I wanna do it again.”

Akaashi felt something akin to bile rise in his throat. He put his sandwich down, unsure if he could keep eating without throwing up the contents of their entire afternoon onto the table. He was happy for Bokuto, he really was, so he couldn’t forgive himself for feeling this way—feeling sick, feeling unwell, feeling as if he wanted more from this relationship. He felt dizzy.

_Wednesday. It was that Wednesday when Akaashi was crying and in indescribable pain, clutching at his bedsheets, his throat sore, his eyes squeezed shut, his thoughts Bokuto, Bokuto, only Bokuto—_

“Akaashi, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he managed, fighting back a cough.

“You’ve hardly touched your food at all, isn’t it your favorite?”

“Not really hungry.”

Bokuto raised an eyebrow at that and then leaned forward, placing a palm directly onto Akaashi’s forehead. “You sure you’re not sick?”

Akaashi flushed hard, his stomach churning, his head spinning, his heart crying out for more, _more, more_ , while his head told him to run as far away as he could. He tried to swat the hand away, but his arms felt like limp weights at his sides so he got up on shaky legs instead. “Bathroom,” he choked, already recognizing the taste of plant in his mouth.

Bokuto didn’t object as Akaashi dashed to the restroom on knees that didn’t feel like his own. He rushed past a few concerned looking employees, thrust the door open, ran into the nearest stall and threw himself over the toilet.

His internal garden overflowed, and it hurt, his throat turned raw from the rough foliage making its way up his lungs and out his throat. It hurt, it hurt, _it hurt_ , but it was relieving. His feelings were going somewhere. They were being taken from him, they were leaving his body, even if it was just temporary.

With one last heave, Akaashi picked himself up off the floor, looking at the beautiful marigolds that swirled in the toilet bowl, the very visage of a tranquil pond.

Akaashi grimaced, flushing the contents down the drain, and composing himself before heading back to meet Bokuto at their booth.

Bokuto seemed to perk up upon spotting Akaashi walk towards their seats. He smiled, the same toothy smile that made Akaashi question the existence of angels on earth.

He felt the marigolds clog up his throat again. Akaashi wondered if he should have sent that text that night.

Akaashi wrapped his meal to-go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Konoha was the first to find out. Akaashi is cleaning up the gym when he doubles over, his vision going white, his hands at his throat, and he can’t stop it—he can’t stop the flowers from squeezing their way out his chest, from falling all over the wooden floors, from undoing all efforts Akaashi had taken to prevent anyone from ever finding out—

“How long have you had hanahaki?” Konoha snaps, his eyes dangerous slits as he bends down to pick at the yellow, the field of sun on their brown, brown floors. Akaashi feels lucky they’re the only two there that night to clean up.

Akaashi wipes his lip, taking a moment to catch his breath. “I don’t… this is the first—”

Konoha picks a petal off the ground, thrusting it into Akaashi’s face. “Don’t lie to me, Akaashi, there’s no way this _just_ started when you have blood on your flowers.”

Upon closer inspection, there was indeed hints of dried blood on the blinding yellow. Akaashi swallows thickly and it tastes like grass. Well, he tried.

“For a bit,” Akaashi responds quietly, not trusting his lungs enough to speak any louder. “It’s not a big deal.”

“This is a huge deal, Akaashi,” Konoha retorts, anger flaring in his eyes. “What the fuck, who is it?! You need to get treatment right away, or confess or something—”

And for the first time in Akaashi’s life, he thinks he wants an escape. He wants to forget and wants to remember what it was like to live a normal life without the pain of feeling so much, feeling too much. He wonders if he can drown this feeling out through someone else, as selfish of a thought as it was. He licks his chapped lips, looks away from Konoha, and murmurs something he hopes won’t be taken seriously.

“You.”

Konoha pauses, his eyes giving away surprise and then wariness. He was suspicious. He had every right to be. After all, he probably knew who it was if he actually put thought into it. He had no doubt Konoha knew.

Akaashi heard Konoha sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Me? That’s… damnit, Akaashi.”

And, like a desperate plea, Akaashi grasped at the straws. That moment of hesitation was enough for him to push it, push it as far as he could so that he could forget Bokuto-san, and fight for a release.

“Konoha, can you… can you sleep with me?”

Konoha’s eyes widened and he turned to Akaashi, worry immediately taking hold of his expression.

“Just once. And if you don’t like me, you can… I’ll get these flowers removed.”

And there, Akaashi asked something he wanted so desperately to say to someone else.

“Just please, give me a chance.”

Konoha surveyed him for a moment and through the silence, there were a lot of thoughts that went unspoken. Akaashi didn’t care, he needed something to distract him, something to take the pain away.

“Okay.”

Akaashi closed his eyes and he could’ve sworn he felt the garden in his lungs wilt a little. He hoped they had.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi took another swig of wine from the glass, reveling in the prickly warmth it spread throughout his body. He wondered if he drank enough, would the feelings he kept deep down be drowned and die from overwatering?

At the very least, for the moment they were held back by the alcohol and Akaashi couldn’t help but relish in the feeling.

His lungs were on fire, and he felt as if there were a weight on his chest, but it felt good, the release was good. He should’ve done this weeks ago.

Konoha had told him that they weren’t going to go all the way and that was fine. Because, this, at least, was something that took his mind away from unnecessary things.

He was naked, on a bed in a nearby hotel. Konoha was next to him, close to him, filling up the emptiness in his heart.

 _This is enough_ , Akaashi repeated for the umpteenth time that night.

Akaashi twitched under Konoha’s hand that felt up and down his body. His touch was warm, it was welcome, it was—

_‘not Bokuto-san’s.’_

He doubled over as a fresh wave of flowers made its way through his throat and Konoha pulled back, concern etched on his face. His hand withdrew from its grip on Akaashi’s length.

“We should stop.”

“No, it’s okay,” Akaashi heaved, the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He grasped Konoha’s arm with shaky hands and dragged it to rest over his lower body. “Please. K-keep going.”

“No, Akaashi,” Konoha repeated, pulling away and shaking his head. “I originally said yes because I wasn’t sure if you were serious or not, but now that I know for sure, I definitely can’t. You… you’re in love with someone else, aren’t you?”

Akaashi shook his head, the haze in his head clearing away to pain.

Konoha sighed, knowing all too well, sitting back on the bed. “You know, I had a bit of a crush on you.”

Akaashi felt a twinge of guilt work its way into his chest, and he tried to look away from Konoha as he sat himself upright. He grabbed the white bedsheets and clutched them over himself, not only feeling shame in his unkempt appearance, but in his behavior towards Konoha who was honestly, a good friend, one who wanted to look out for him.

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi mouthed, every part of him ablaze with heat—from hurt, from shame, from denial, from unrequited love.

Konoha scoffed, though it didn’t sound serious. “Nah, don’t be. It didn’t last long. But, I care about you so I want you to tell him when you can.”

Akaashi laughed and the sound sounded empty in his ears. “Tell him? No, that’s ridiculous.”

Konoha pawed a bit at the sheets. “Yeah, I can imagine it’d be hard. Given he has a girlfriend and all.”

Ignoring Akaashi’s look of shock, Konoha leaned back against the bed’s pillows, shrugging easily. “But, I still think you should tell him.”

“What do you _want_ me to say, Konoha?” Akaashi spat, a fire ignited in his eyes he didn’t know he still had. “Oh, sorry, Bokuto-san, I’m actually in love with you and even though you’re in a committed relationship, I want you to think about dating me? That’s so…”

Akaashi turned his face to the bedsheets, watching his hands clench around the covers.

“I… I understand, Akaashi, but you can’t just keep going like this… You’ll literally die.”

Akaashi scoffed, feeling a petal lodge in the back of his throat like bile. “Then, so be it.”

Ignoring any other protests Konoha made, Akaashi threw the sheets back, pulled on his clothes, and left the hotel room without another word.

The flowers returned tenfold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their intimate exchange didn’t stop Konoha from caring. Akaashi wasn’t sure if he appreciated it or not. He was at least glad he didn’t have to pretend to be embarrassed when it came to interacting with the upperclassman.

 

 **From Konoha [19:21]:** tell him to break up w her

 **To Konoha [19:30]:** I can’t do that.

 **From Konoha [19:31]:** y not? it would help wouldnt it? I dont think theyre that far into their relationship yet

 **To Konoha [19:48]:**  Who am I to decide that kind of thing? If I break them up and date Bokuto-san and it doesn’t work out because we’re not compatible, that’s selfish of me.

 **From Konoha [19:50]:** I kno but u need to try. Bokuto cares abt u too

 **To Konoha [19:50]:** I’d rather not make a mess.

 **From Konoha [19:51]:** he wouldnt want u to die ok

 

Akaashi swallowed. It was true that Bokuto considered him close. He had even gone as far to say that they were best friends at one point. Surely that meant that Bokuto would be sad if Akaashi ever disappeared, right?

Akaashi knew that love wasn’t about receiving—it was about giving and he wasn’t sure if he could give Bokuto everything he needed. He made sure to let Konoha know as well.

 

 **From Konoha [19:54]:** y do u say u cant give him what he needs?

 **To Konoha [19:56]:** Because I know him too well, and I’m not enough.

 

Still, after a moment of thought and a bouquet of marigolds later, Akaashi resolved himself. If he was going to go down to hanahaki, might as well go down after wearing his heart on his sleeve. Just as Konoha suggested—over text would be less painful. At least, he hoped.

 

 **To Bokuto [21:11]:** Bokuto-san, I have something I want to talk about.

 **From Bokuto [21:11]:** WATS UP AKAA AA  SHI!!

 

 **To Bokuto [21:13]:** I think I love you.

_[message deleted]_

**To Bokuto [21:15]:** It is weird if I tell you I love you

_[message deleted]_

**To Bokuto [21:18]:** You said you don’t mind dating men, right? I have something about that that I want to—

_[message deleted]_

 

Akaashi fisted his bangs in frustration. What the fuck, why was this so fucking hard. He took a deep breath, shaking his head before coughing up a single marigold petal. This one was stained in red. He turned to his keypad again.

 

 **To Bokuto [21:22]:** Do you love her?

 

Akaashi threw the phone across the desk, burying his face in his arms. He had never been as frustrated with himself as that moment. What the fuck kind of question was that? Is he expecting to have his heart broken when Bokuto obviously responds with yes, _yes_ he does, he totally loves the Karasuno manager with all his heart, she is his little cupcake, and he would die for her—

A ping. Akaashi gathered his courage and took a glance at his phone.

 

 **From Bokuto [21:23]:** YEAHH!! I  <3 her and I <3 u and I <3 every1 on our team so SO muhc yakno!

 

Akaashi took a breath. As deep of a breath as he could with the flowers constricting his throat. He had to run with it.

 

 **To Bokuto [21:24]:** I love you too, Bokuto-san.

 **From Bokuto [21:24]:** aAaWW AKWaHSI THATS SO NICE 8DD

 **To Bokuto [21:26]:** No, Bokuto-san, I love you like…

                                                the ‘want to marry you’ kind of love you.

 

Before he could back out, Akaashi sent the message, and he felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He throat was drier than usual, the flowers threatening to spill over, but he pushed them back, waiting, waiting, _waiting_ for the response.

 

 **From Bokuto [21:31]:** o.

 

Akaashi felt sick, his head spinning and his fists clenching over the phone, he occupied his fingers by forcing them to tap on the desk instead of reaching up to claw his own throat out.

 

 **To Bokuto [21:37]:** I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. That must’ve been weird. I just needed to tell you that I have…

                        …hanahaki and…

                                                …I want to get over you.

                                                                        …so please, reject me properly.

 

Akaashi struggled to get the last bit out as his organs seemed to want to worm their way out of his own body. Every part of him was telling him to stop because there was no way to reverse this, no way to end the damage he had done on their relationship, no way to recover from such a shameful display of affection. He was the sad, gay friend who had no chance.

No chance from the start.

 

 **From Bokuto [21:38]:** NOO!!! never akaaas shi, I love u a lot u no! nothin will change I promis ok? no rejecting I stil lov yachi cause shes my gf but I lov u to! I lov u both!! is that ok? we’ll get thru this!!

 **To Bokuto [21:39]:** Okay.

 **From Bokuto [21:39]:** ill see u tmrw k!! werestill best frends ok!

 **To Bokuto [21:40]:** Okay.

 **From Bokuto [21:40]:** i lov u ok!!!!

 **To Bokuto [21:41]:** Okay. Goodnight, Bokuto-san.

 **From Bokuto [21:41]:** nite kaashi!!!

 

It wasn’t okay.

That night, Akaashi hacked his throat raw and red, blood lining the inside of his mouth and staining his teeth.

_It was okay, it’s still okay, Bokuto still loves me, just not like—_

A marigold with drenched in blood made its way between his teeth. He tasted the metal, noted the uncomfortableness he felt with the plant lodged between his gums.

He curled into himself, the ache in his chest the strongest.

_Why did he let myself fall so deep?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As much as he wanted to deny it, everything changed from that point forward.

Bokuto stopped trying to touch him, and he refrained from talking about his girlfriend. It was only when he hastily mentioned dates he was going on that Akaashi knew Bokuto was trying desperately to hold onto the threads that used to hold them together, in hopes that he could have both Yachi and Akaashi.

Akaashi couldn’t fault Bokuto for trying to preserve everything as it was before because if given the choice, Akaashi would probably have done the same.

But, this… this wasn’t the Bokuto he knew. The Bokuto he knew was loud, boisterous, willing to get into other people’s faces, and most certainly did not shy away from physical contact as he did now.

It hurt. It really did.

When he saw Bokuto down the hall or during practice the upperclassman would grin, running towards him before stopping to give a hug that felt like a stranger’s, making bile build up in the back of Akaashi’s throat. He didn’t say anything about it until it was too much and he found himself blurting—

“You don’t touch me anymore.”

Bokuto flinched, wiping the volleyball in his hands with a towel. “I… I thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

_Why wouldn’t I want you to, why wouldn’t I want you to, why wouldn’t I want—_

“Y’know, ‘cause it might be painful.”

Akaashi offered a small smile that tugged painfully on his lips. “I think it’s more painful when you don’t.”

A flash of guilt passed by Bokuto’s eyes and Akaashi immediately regretted his choice in words. He averted his gaze but couldn’t help the bitterness that laced his next words.

“If I were a girl, it would’ve been different, huh?”

Bokuto stopped, a storm of uncertainty flashing in his golden pupils. “Huh?”

Akaashi smiled back at Bokuto, a ghost of upturned lips on his face. “It’s alright, Bokuto-san, I know.”

“A-akaashi, no, that’s not—”

“It’s okay,” Akaashi laughed breathlessly, some kind of stem catching in his throat. “You’ve told me before you prefer girls.”

Bokuto stammered, his brows furrowing. “Akaashi, I know I do, but, if it wasn’t for Yachi, I would have totally… if you had only told me, I would’ve—”

 _Why am I your backup plan?_ _Your kindness is making it worse._

“You don’t even talk about her anymore,” Akaashi nearly spat, the sudden bitterness a surprise to his own ears. “I… I don’t dislike Yachi. You can talk about her, you don’t need to hold back.”

_What am I even saying anymore?_

“I… don’t want to talk about her if it hurts you.”

_What are you even saying, Bokuto-san, please… just please reject me so that I can…_

Akaashi didn’t even notice the tears before it was too late.

“Does that mean that you never plan to talk to her with me? Not even when you guys get engaged? When you guys get married? Am I just… am I just that unimportant to you, Bokuto-san?”

_Please just let me go so I can forget you._

_Stop being so nice to me, be mean, tell me off, call me gross, disgusting, a waste of time, of space, you don’t want to date me, you don’t—_

_Please just tell me you don’t want anything to do with me anymore._

_Then, I can… then, I can forget the sun, the happiness, the joy you’ve given me._

Bokuto rushed forward, throwing his arms around Akaashi and Akaashi felt himself melt into the touch, yearning, hoping, wishing, and feeling a part of his throat soothe as if he had sucked on a cough drop.

He choked and sobbed into Bokuto’s shoulder, a flower escaping his lips with every other breath. “Wh-why can’t you just… stop?”

Akaashi felt a tear fall on his shoulder and he looked up to see Bokuto crying as well, his eyes screwed shut tight, his brows furrowed, the most frustrated he’s looked since they lost last year’s nationals by a sliver.

“Akaashi, because… Akaashi because you’re important to me too, dammit, I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to break Yachi’s heart either, I don’t know what to do, I don’t—you can be selfish! Tell me if I’m being stupid, tell me to stop thinking like this, tell me—”

Akaashi found himself lost in Bokuto’s eyes and couldn’t tear himself away. Those golden eyes screamed concern, screamed care, and screamed a desperate yearning that Akaashi would die to have.

Bokuto’s brow was creased and Akaashi blamed himself for it. He reached over smooth it out with gentle, shaking fingers. Akaashi smiled softly, sadly, the first genuine one in a while.

How could Akaashi take away Bokuto’s happiness with the girl he loved? The two were meant for each other, got along so much better than they did--he was certain that Yachi could give Bokuto all the smiles and laughter he deserved. She had said more than once that she loved him. She found happiness in him and comfort in his presence and he, in hers. Akaashi was a prick for wanting to take that away from them.

Yes, he admits he loves Bokuto enough to let him go, to let him live his life fully without him. It was all for him. He just needed Bokuto to tell him he didn’t want him and that would be the end of it. He’d have closure.

Still, he couldn’t help the words that slipped out of his mouth against his own will.

“If I’m being s-selfish, I want—you, I want to be y-your number o—”

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to stand. Something was eating him from the inside out, and he knew he couldn’t stay whole any longer. He felt his knees give out and he crashed to the floor, suffocation from his lungs, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t, _breathe_ , he, _couldn’t_.

He heard a panicked yell, a flurry of feet, and then, silence.

It was stupid, he admits. Love, was.

But, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset because how could he have not fallen for Bokuto. He was everything in Akaashi’s world, a star fallen from the heavens, someone who was a bit difficult to deal with at first glance, but his entire presence was a gift, a reward, a person he would fight for.

Until his last breath.

Akaashi wondered if he was foolish to refuse surgery. Yet, despite these doubts, he knew he wouldn’t regret his decision because the feelings he held for Bokuto only existed there, within him. And, as stupid as it was, he wanted to preserve that memory, so that he could keep this warm love close to his heart, in the form of beautiful, blossoming marigolds.

This was the only way Akaashi could be with Bokuto.

The flowers filled up his lungs and dyed every part of him, golden yellow like his sun, like Bokuto Koutarou. His mother had hated her flowers, had rejected them with her entire being and couldn’t stand the thought of throwing up an entire greenhouse’s worth every night.

But, to Akaashi, to Akaashi they were…

They were everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Akaashi die? Did he end up getting that surgery forcibly? Did they ever sort out their feelings? *shrug* who knows, it's honestly up to your interpretation XDD
> 
> get yo unhealthy coping mechanisms checked, kids. *finger guns*

**Author's Note:**

> Do I love seeing Akaashi in pain? Idk tbh lmao XDD I've wanted to write a hanahaki fic for a WHILE so thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Find me on!! ^^  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tetsookie)  
> [Tumblr](http://greendoodle.tumblr.com/)


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